The Real Thing
by OBluver
Summary: A three parter about Harry's relationship with his drill sergeants. I think it's really sweet and different so you should read... and REVIEW! I going to throw a splash of a shipper in but it's not a lot, so don't expect much. Love you!


A/N- Ok, hello everyone! This is my new three part story! I hope you love it! It's a little different for me, a lot more angst and drama, and a lot less romance, but hey! I like it. This has been saved on my computer for about 62793704 years, and I was just to lazy to actually upload it or finish it! So this is part one, part two is coming soon. And in the words of my homeboy Christian from Project Runway 'It's FIERCE!'. R/R!

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My job is not and will never be easy. It's a challenge but I have come to learn that it is a relentless routine. Kids come in, and I break them. I make sure that the moment they step through that door they become different people, and by the end of the whole process they most likely will hate me for it. But if I didn't do what I do, the way I do, I don't know if I could sleep at night. The reality of war can't be a surprise to a soldier, and it's my job to make sure it's not.

As you would expect there are a set of strict rules, set by the Ministry, that have to be followed to make sure everything runs smoothly. Some are issued for insurance purposes and others strictly for safety reasons. But among us drill sergeants there is only one rule that matters: do not under any circumstances get attached. I had never once broken this rule, and it wasn't my plan to start when he arrived.

I had heard his name before, everyone within the wizarding world had. And upon hearing the orders that Harry Potter was going to be my one and only mission I knew I was in for a challenge. Celebrities were particularly hard to train. He knew that when Harry walked through the door he would either be one of two things: a prat who thinks he knows it all and makes sure to let everyone knows it, or an apparently "wounded soul" who felt the need to rebel against even the mere idea of war. Either would have been easier than what I got.

Harry was strong, fast, and smart. He never disobeyed an order, and he got through each obstacle I threw at him flawlessly. In the eyes of a sergeant his was a perfect trainee, but he was far from it. Sure he never disobeyed, but he also never spoke a word. Sure he got through all the obstacles, but I could tell he was doing it out of pure necessity, but his pride refused him to tell anyone.

The ministry sent me his discharge-to-war papers multiple times, but I could never bring myself to sign them. Potter didn't have the heart for what he was doing. And sending a solider without heart into the battle field is sending him to his own suicide.

For six months Potter and I trained at a top secret facility somewhere in the mountains. Due to his high status we had to do everything at a top security level. Our training facility looked more like a warehouse than anything. And seeing as most of the space was needed for the training itself, Potter and I shared a small room that we slept in. It was the only room in the whole facility that war wasn't discussed. It was where we received our letters, and were permitted occasional phone calls.

Those were really the only times that I ever saw Potter with any emotions. He tried to hide it well, and most of the time his face did remain pretty stoic. But every week when we received our stack of letters I could tell that there was something underneath his eyes. I was never certain whether it was longing for the ones he missed or simply just sadness for the whole situation.

In about our fifth month of training I broke the number one rule. I am to this day still slightly ashamed. It happened while we were opening our letters. Mine were typical. I got one from my mother, a couple from a few buddies of mine, and then my usual letters that my wife writes to me every day. I gently put them in my bottom dresser drawer for safe keeping and was preparing to go to bed when I heard it. It was a loud intake of breath.

I turned quickly to make sure that it wasn't some foreign invader, but I soon realized that no one was in the room except for Potter and me. For a moment I almost discounted the noise for one that I had made up in my mind. I could hardly imagine Potter making such a noise. But on closer examination of the boy I could tell that I had definitely not imagined it.

His hands were shaking as he held what appeared to be a small picture in his hands. His eyes stared down at the small piece of paper with fear. It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. If I could imagine any emotion Potter would feel it wouldn't be fear.

"Potter…" I started hesitantly trying not to scare him. His head immediately shot up and he quickly shoved the picture he had been holding under his blanket. I could see him trying to return to his stoic demeanor, and it puzzled me as to why he was failing so miserably. "Is there anything wrong?"

I took him several moments to reply. He stared me down, as if judging my capacity. It was obvious that something was indeed wrong, but I very much doubted that he would like to confide in me.

"Yes sir." He said quietly as if he were a child admitting a wrong doing. I stared at him for another long minute.

"Is it anything I can help with?" I tried, and he looked at me hardly again, and did not respond. I even began to turn around before I heard him speak again.

"Sir, would you know how to go about getting a temporary release from training?" he asked squarely. It was my turn to stare at him. Getting time off? What was he playing at? I had never even gotten a night off. His slight grunt brought me back into reality as I quickly thought up a reply.

"I wouldn't really know. I've never asked for any time off. But I suspect that you would probably have to send a formal letter to the Minister with a damn good reason." I could see his eyes becoming downcast and something pulled in my heart for the kid. I knew I shouldn't be doing this. This would only get me attached, and that was not something that I ever planned on happening. But there was something curious about the kid, and this was the first time I had ever heard him speak, I mean really speak. For some reason I knew I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by.

"Hey, I'm sure with your status, if you had a legitimate reason; the minister would grant you as much time as you needed." Harry nodded and turned away from me, and my heart sunk thinking that the conversation was over.

I turned myself arranging the papers on my bed side table in meticulous order. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Potter stood in front of me with the same small picture in his hand. I knew the confusion must have been written all over my face, but he didn't appear to care. He held the picture out for me to look at it before he spoke.

"Is this a good enough reason?" What I saw made my stomach lurched.

I recognized it immediately as an ultrasound picture. My wife had sent me one when she had been pregnant with our first son, David. The small peanut like shape in the middle was unmistakably a baby. My heart sank as I knew what I would have to tell him.

"You could take it up with the ministry." I said a little too eagerly. "They might allow it because of your status." Both he and I knew I was stalling at this point, and he glared down at me still holding the picture in his hands.

"Sir, I am asking for your professional opinion. Is this a good enough reason?" his voice was determined, and my heart felt like it was going to burst.

"No"

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A/N- Okay so that's it, hope you enjoyed and don't hate me into oblivion for leaving you hanging. Oh! And I will give a big gold star for the first person to guess who the baby's mama is! Lol, REVIEW! 


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